Sara's Darkest Secret
by agirlsmindxox
Summary: Sara, a student who has transferred into Hogwarts for her sixth year, is different. Harry doesn't want to know about it, but is somehow tied into the story.
1. Chapter One

"May I have your attention, please?"  
  
The Great Hall quickly grew silent. A tall, thin bearded man dressed in fushia robes looked down on the many students who had, a moment ago, been talking happily. His crescent-shaped glasses reflected the light of the moon – the ceiling, which must've been at least twenty times his height, had been enchanted to represent the sky outside. When he was sure that all eyes were on him, Albus Dumbledore continued.  
  
"I would like to start by welcoming you all back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you enjoyed yourselves during your summer break."  
  
Dumbledore paused as students wispered excitedly. Harry Potter, back slouched and head in hands, did not contribute to this quiet school discussion.  
  
"Excellent," the headmaster smiled, once everyone had settled back down. "We are all very pleased to welcome to our fine school a new group of students. Professor McGonagall, would you please lead the first years to the front of the Hall?"  
  
Minerva McGonagall did as she was told. Harry saw the top of her emerald green witch's hat through a crowd of anxious first year students. They quickly formed a single file and followed Professor McGonagall, who lead them to stand facing Dumbledore.  
  
"Hey," Harry heard his best friend, Ron Weasley, whisper. "Look at that boy, over there! He looks about ready to throw up!"  
  
Ron laughed at his own comment, and Harry saw him continue to scan the crowd of students. He rolled his eyes and turned his head towards Dumbledore. The wizard had placed the Sorting Hat on a wooden stool in front of the first years. Harry could see that all eyes were now on it.  
  
"Ah, here comes my favourite part," Dumbledore laughed.  
  
The Sorting Hat broke into his song, describing all four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. When it had finished, the entire Hall roared with applause. Hermione Granger, Harry's other best friend, turned to face him.  
  
"I'm glad the Hat's gone back to its cheerful tune. Remember last year?"  
  
Harry nodded. At the beginning of his fifth year, the Sorting Hat had warned them to stay close and to steer clear from trouble. Hardly what anyone had expected.  
  
The Sorting Hat proceeded to sort each of the first years into their houses. Harry watched the first few students place the hat onto their heads, but quickly found the floor more interesting. During previous ceremonies, he would have been welcoming everyone and cheering loudly, but today, he would rather have been anywhere else.  
  
"Anna! Anna, look! It's Harry Potter!" one girl exclaimed as she took a seat next to her friend. Harry looked up for a brief moment, gave them both a falsely cheerful grin, then glanced at Ron. He had his eyes glued on what seemed to be the last first year to be sorted. Harry sighed, and turned his attention back to the front of the Hall. To his surprise, the last student did not take a seat on the stool. Instead, Dumbledore spoke.  
  
"Now that we all are seated, I have an important announcement to make," he said. He waved his forearm before him in a very majestic manner. "We at Hogwarts are pleased to welcome a new student. Sara, would you please sit on the stool?"  
  
The girl walked gracefully to the stool and sat down. She had blonde hair that flowed down to half of her back. She looked terribly pale and fragile, as if she were about to break into pieces.   
  
"She looks like Malfoy," Ron said.  
  
He was right. She screamed Malfoy.  
  
"Ten Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans says she gets sorted into Slytherin," Ron grinned. Harry laughed quietly. He wondered why Dumbledore was taking the time to introduce this girl. She looked like any other first year.  
  
"Place the Hat on your head, Sara," Dumbledore said in a low voice. The girl did as she was told. She didn't look nervous in the least.  
  
The Great Hall had never been so silent. Everyone watched as Sara, as that was what Dumbledore had called her, sat still. The Sorting Hat was perfectly still. The scene was frozen. Nobody moved for well over five minutes. Finally, the Hat exclaimed Sara's sorting.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged sideways glances. Sara stood up and faced the crowd of students.  
  
"Sara, would you like to tell us about yourself?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
More confused expressions. Why was Albus Dumbledore, possibly the most powerful wizard in the world, paying so much attention to this one girl?   
  
Sara looked around, with still no hint of insecurity or nerve. Dumbledore gave her a nod of his head, as if to let her know that she could start speaking.  
  
"I'm… Well, er… Yes. My name is Sara, and I will be sixteen years old in December," she started. Harry noticed a foreign accent in her speech. She would roll her r's, or simply omitt them. She seemed to have trouble pronouncing the six in sixteen. Her voice had a certain melody to it, which surprised both Harry and Ron: they had imagined her to speak in the same menacing tone that Malfoy used with such expertise. "I transferred here from Se Rose Magiskskola, the wizarding academy in Sweden."  
  
Sara stopped talking and looked down at her shoes, which looked old, ripped, and dirty. Harry realized that she must have learned English as a second language.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione whispered.   
  
Harry turned around to look at his friend.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Harry, no student has ever transferred here before," she said urgently.  
  
Rediscovering his dark mood, Harry gave Hermione an annoyed look. He hated the way she always assumed that he knew what she was talking about.  
  
"Hermione, that doesn't tell me anything."  
  
Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if any old idiot should have known what she was talking.  
  
"It's against the school rules to transfer schools in the wizarding world, Harry!" she hissed.  
  
Ron, who had just tuned in, looked directly at Hermione and raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Hermione, if you want Harry and I to understand what you're talking about, you're going to have to stop talking in code."  
  
Harry nodded. Hermione gave Ron a cold look.  
  
"There's something different about this Sara," she said.  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged glances.  
  
"Why is it that Dumbledore is paying her so much attention? Why is he introducing her to the whole school? Why is the school suddenly bending the rules to let this random girl transfer? Look at her! It's so obvious that something's going on that we don't know about!"  
  
Harry looked straight into Hermione's eyes. Must there always be something going on?  
  
"You know, right now, I'd rather not find out. All summer, I've been asked to keep secrets, to explore, to hide. You don't know what it's like, living at the Dursleys', yet being so connected to the Wizarding world. Knowing that, at any moment, Lord Voldemort might decide to Apparate in my room and kill me – or worse, one of you two," he exploded.   
  
Hermione looked down. Ron searched the Great Hall for signs that anyone had heard his friend's sudden outburst. No one had. They were all watching Sara take her seat at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry… I know it must be hard."  
  
"Oh, no. It's just dandy," Harry retorted.  
  
As the food appeared on the long, wooden table, Harry got up and stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving his two best friends and a whole crowd of people who he once might have given a second thought about. 


	2. Chapter Two

"Good morning, Harry!"  
  
Ron had pulled Harry's sheets off of his bed, and was standing to his friend's right. He was wearing dark blue pyjamas, which had obviously been worn by his older brothers: there was a tear in the right knee, both arms were too short, and there was an ink stain on his left shoulder.   
  
"Harry, get up! Come on! It's Saturday!"  
  
Harry let out a tired groan.  
  
"Saturday?" he managed to ask.  
  
"Yeah! Hurry!"  
  
Harry helped himself to a sitting position with his arms.  
  
"Ron, if it's a Saturday, why should I get up?" he asked.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
"I'm not getting out of bed. There is no way."  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
Harry unwillingly stepped out of bed. His hair was a mess, and he couldn't find his glasses. Ron picked them off his nightable and handed them to him. Once he could see again, he lazily chose his clothes for the day and headed for the showers.  
  
"Aren't you glad you got up, Harry?" Ron asked excitedly as he and Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, which was, oddly enough, packed.   
  
Hermione soon joined them.  
  
"Good morning, boys!" she said cheerfully.  
  
"What's so good about it?" Harry grumbled.  
  
Hermione and Ron exchanged looks.  
  
"Oh, Harry, don't be so pessimistic," Hermione said. "Look! Everyone is up! We have to make the best of our days… I mean, classes start on Monday."  
  
"Way to make me feel better," Harry said.  
  
Ron grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him out of the common room. He, Harry, and Hermione climbed down the many staircases and, to Harry's surprise, exited the castle.  
  
"What are we doing?" he asked.  
  
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and was reflected on the lake at a distance. The sky was an incredible shade of blue. Students were outside, sitting under trees, or running on the field. Even the Forbidden Forest didn't look so bad.  
  
Harry pulled himself away from Ron's grasp.  
  
"Where are we going?" he demanded angrily.  
  
Hermione sighed.  
  
"You really don't like surprises, do you?" she asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Alright," she said. "We're going to the far right of the field – past the Quidditch field, past the terrace."  
  
Harry looked at his friends in disbelief: first, he had never been past the Quidditch field, and didn't know what a terrace was; second, he couldn't imagine why his friends would find it so important to drag him there.  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
The three friends had started walking again.  
  
"Harry, won't you please trust us? It's not like we're going to hurt you, or anything!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
Harry slumped into a dark mood. He listened to Ron and Hermione speak as they walk quickly past the Quidditch field, a garden of beautiful blue roses, and, finally, past the terrace. It didn't look like anything spectacular to Harry. Marble tiles had been placed on the grass and surrounded by a crystal fence. A few lonely tables and chairs sat in this closed area. Harry imagined his professors sipping some Butterbeer at those tables.  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron continued to walk for another five minutes. Harry started to notice the shadow of a figure in the distance. Soon, he could make out a dark grey robe and shaggy hair.  
  
Harry stopped walking, finally realizing what was so important.  
  
"LUPIN!" he shouted. He ran forward to great his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
  
"Hello, Harry!" Lupin said.  
  
He looked very weak, very tired. He managed a weak smile.  
  
"Listen, Harry, I have a lot of important information that I need to tell you."  
  
Harry frowned. Couldn't Lupin just have come to visit? He didn't want to know anything.  
  
"You NEED to?" Harry ask in desperation.  
  
Lupin looked down at him and nodded.  
  
"Please… I know that it's hard, but try not to get too worked up. This might be long."  
  
Not get worked up? Just the fact that Lupin had said that made Harry want to hurt him. He knew better than to cave in, of course. He knew that, if he let his anger take a hold of him, he would be letting Lord Voldemort posess him.  
  
"Alright," Harry said. He clenched his teeth and nodded. "Tell me everything."  
  
"Uh, do you want us to leave?" Ron asked.  
  
"No. I think you should know, too," Lupin answered.  
  
Hermione bit her lip. Clearly, he wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he was about to tell them. Lupin looked around, as if he suspected that someone might overhear him.  
  
"Voldemort hasn't been seen since that day, at the Ministry."  
  
Total silence.  
  
"There have been no killings, no sign of bizzare things going on with the muggles. Nobody knows where he is."  
  
Harry took a deep breath.  
  
"And… And I'm guessing that's not a good sign," he said in a very low voice.  
  
"Well, on the plus side, nobody's been hurt," Lupin tried, but Harry knew the rest.  
  
"But all this means is that he's planning something worse."  
  
Lupin looked down.  
  
"Yes," he said.  
  
There was another silence. Hermione twisted her hair around her finger; Ron twiddled his thumbs; Lupin appeared to be chewing on the inside of his mouth; Harry stood still.  
  
"Harry, you must NOT let Lord Voldemort take over your mind. I know you probably hate me for saying this. I know that it must be hard, and I know that Snape will never agree to give you more lessons after your… Uh… Discovery," Lupin said uneasily.  
  
"You sure know a lot," Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"That's what I'm talking about, Harry."  
  
Harry sighed, clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and opened them again.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. He truly meant it. "I'll try."  
  
Ron, who had, up until that moment, been perfectly quiet, spoke.  
  
"Imagine Umbridge in her underpants, that'll give you a good laugh," he said. Then, picturing this portait for himself, he gave his friend a terrified look and shuddered. "No… No… Don't. Maybe Dudley, or your uncle Vernon."  
  
Harry chuckled. He had no intention of imagining such a scene, but he found Ron's idea very humorous.  
  
"That's it, Harry. Start by laughing at least once a day, then gradually work it up the scale," Hermione said very brilliantly.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said. He smiled. "Like I said, I'll try."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
The conversation steered away from this dark subject. Ron told Lupin all about how he had practised his Quidditch in his backyard, only to break countless windows and ruin his mother's nicest plants. Hermione inquired on his health. Harry concentrated hard of what a great time he was having, and on how happy he was.  
  
"Oh, before I go," Lupin said, just as he was about to leave. "I've heard about a new transfer student… Sara Böstrom?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. What about her?" Harry asked.  
  
"Keep an eye on her. I couldn't tell you exactly, but I know that there's something wrong. Dumbledore wouldn't break school rules about transfer students unless the student in question was, well, special," he said.  
  
"We figured," Hermione said.  
  
"Good," Lupin approved. "Well, good bye!"  
  
"Bye!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione exclaimed at once.  
  
The three watched Lupin Disapparate into thin air. They then started their long walk back to the castle. Suddenly, Hermione froze.  
  
"I thought it was impossible to Apparate and Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds?" 


End file.
